Those Who Remain (Book 2) (21 page)

“Good enough. I brought my own instruments, but I need you to sterilize the wound and keep an eye on his vitals, okay? And bring me a mask and a pair of gloves.”

She nods. As I wash my hands in a nearby sink, Tigh approaches me and whispers, “I’m going to look around to see if this town really is safe.”

The prospect of being separated from him worries me for only an instant, but one long enough for him to place a hand gently on my shoulder. “I won’t take long.”

I nod and he leaves. My eyes linger on the door, before I continue to wash my hands.

The surgery is a messy affair. I don’t have the proper clamps and Nurse Felicity has no Operating Room experience, but they have local anesthetic, which helps Billy with the pain. Still, he passes out after a while. His friend, Hector, stays by his side for everything, helping us by bringing instruments and fresh water.

In the middle of the procedure, the doors of the room open again, and I glance quickly to see a woman entering with the Sheriff, who carries a small girl and places her on the other available bed. He talks to the nurse, and the woman yells at them, but I’m too focused on my task to hear what they are saying.

After two hours I manage to find the bullet and take it out without any more complications. I finish things by closing the wound with care. My forehead drips with sweat, my knees almost buckle from standing for so long, but I can’t help but feel relieved. He’s going to live.

I tell Hector the good news, and the man shoulders finally relax. He gives a smile. “Thank you, Doc.”

“You should rest. He’s not going to wake up anytime soon.”

The officer nods, passing a hand over his nose. His eyes are red as well. After looking at his friend one more time and squeezing the man’s hand, Hector leaves.

I turn to the nurse. “You have antibiotics, right?” She nods. “Good, give him one every four hours, also when he wakes make sure he drinks lots of fluids, and watch him. If his fever still hasn’t dropped, you might need to open the wound again and check for any shrapnel left.”

“Me?” Felicity asks. “Are you leaving?”

“Maybe. I don’t know yet.” I take off the soaked red plastic gloves and toss them in the nearest trashcan. “Now, I’m going to see my next patient.”

Felicity tells me about the little girl, the one unconscious on the bed next to Billy. Apparently she didn’t live in Redwood, and they just found her trying to steal medicine from a house. She tells me she has a fever, vomited twice, and they were thinking she ate something bad while living alone in the woods.

Gently, to make sure she doesn’t wake up, I check her arms and legs for bites. I take her dirty boots and coat off. There are no usual signs of the infection, only minor injuries, including glass fragments in her shoulder.

Nurse Felicity helps me take them out and clean the wounds. While I check her pulse, I notice her left hand is cuffed to the bed rails. I recoil instantly, as if shocked. My heart skips a beat as the image of little Victoria flashes in front of my eyes. It’s hard to breathe after that.

“What is it, Doctor?”

Blinking, I try to wash away the thoughts of that day. This very much alive girl needs me. I can’t have a panic attack. My right hand trembles, and I use the other to stop it. After breathing in and out, I manage to calm down enough to answer the nurse.

“Nothing. She’s dehydrated and probably suffering from abdominal cramps. Do you have Tylenol or similar in here? We should ease her pain, so when she wakes up she doesn’t hurt herself.”

She nods, walking to the nearest counter and passing me a bottle of the medicine and a cup of water. Together, we raise the girl’s head and help her swallow the drink.

I sit next to her bed, eyes lingering on her handcuffs. “Does she need to be handcuffed? There’s no sign of the infection.”

Felicity shrugs. “Just being safe. But I guess if you are sure she’s not dangerous, then it’s okay to take them out.” She extends her hand and offers me the keys. “You are the doctor after all.”

I look at them, heart and head pounding. The guilt works its way into my heart once again. If I had not handcuffed Victoria, would things have gone so badly? Can I really say for sure that this girl’s suffering is justified in the name of making other people feel safe?

When did handcuffing sick children become acceptable, and when did I start to believe it was?

The keys feel heavy, the metal cold. I click them in and free her from the bounds.

Sometime later, Tigh finds me sitting next to Billy’s bed, monitoring his vitals. Felicity left the room to find me some food, and both the girl and Billy are sleeping peacefully.

“So? Are we about to become dinner?” I say with a smile, pushing a chair for him to sit next to me.

With a sigh he closes the office’s door and falls on the chair. “No. They are preparing pizza for Movie Night. I think between cheese and fresh tomatoes, human meat wouldn’t fit with the rest of the toppings.”

“Movie Night? Really?” I let out a short laugh, placing a hand on my mouth to muffle the sound. “How on earth did they manage to survive so far?”

“They have some bare defenses around town. Also it is a pretty isolated place. Anything else must’ve been luck.” He looks at the door. “A truckload of luck.”

We stay in silence for a long time, digesting the information. After months of thinking the worst, of expecting the end of the world, this town just proved to me it’s possible to retain some level of normalcy. Modern conveniences might have been destroyed for most part, but it doesn’t mean humanity is beyond hope. And with the possibility of a cure in our hands….

“What do you want to do?” Tigh interrupts my thoughts with his eyes piercing me. “Do you want to stay?”

I shouldn’t be surprised he already made that assumption. Part of me does want to stay. I could help the community with my skills, Tigh would help protect the town, and we both might find some peace. No more fearing for my life every second, walking and walking without knowing if there’ll be food tomorrow. No more chasing a dream that might be possible, but probably won’t.

The idea of watching a movie on a Friday night almost breaks my heart.

“No,” I answer after a long pause. I shake my head and sigh. “We should leave. We can’t waste time here.”

Tigh looks at me for a second then takes my hands in his. A lump forms inside my throat and my eyes dart away from his face.

“We could wait out the winter here, then find Akimi during the spring.”

I gaze him directly. “If we stay… We won’t be able to leave. We’ll find some excuse to stay every time. The cure is too important. We have a responsibility to take it to the right people.”

He nods. “Okay. We leave.” Tigh gets up and offers me a hand. “After seeing how Nightfall ends.”

“What?” I laugh. “What are you talking about?”

The Sergeant clears his throat, and moves his hand to his back again. “It’s the movie the town’s watching tonight. About… werewolves.”

I blink and pretend ignorance. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s… pretty popular.
Was
popular. At least, the boys back at the base told me it was. I thought you would know about it, since it’s about….”

“About what?” I can’t help but smile at his hesitation.

“It’s about some love triangle or something, I think.”

It’s impossible to hold the laughter in any longer. Tigh’s expression is of utter embarrassment, I have never seen him so hot and bothered. He avoids my eyes and clears his throat.

“Well?” He asks me, hands on his back and body straight as if he was greeting a superior officer. “Do you want to see the movie or not?”

Before I can answer the door opens. The Sheriff, the woman from earlier and another younger man walk inside.

The Hunter's Daughter IX

January 8th, Friday, 2 pm

My feet rise above the snow as I follow the tracks on the ground. I try my best to forget the cabin I left behind. To forget our home abandoned, freezing and covered by darkness. Our kitchen’s cabinets open and bare. The bunk bed without sheets. The propane gas tank that fueled the stove, gone forever. Nobody is living there anymore. He left nothing behind.

Except me.

Father’s gone and we’ll never see each other again.

Like Danny said, I could track him if I wanted. He left by car and didn’t even bother to hide the tire marks. But what good would that do? Father will never change. Never once in his life did he admit he was wrong. Everything Danny said was true, no matter how much I want to deny. I was blind to his faults, blind to his manipulations and the years of lies.

What hurts me the most is the realization that he left without even trying to fix things. To apologize. I wasn’t even worth the trouble. The worst thing is that despite all that I still hope he’ll come back to me. I hate myself for that. I hate that I almost feel guilty for leaving him behind.

Here I am, moping around again. This won’t do. I need to follow my own advice and get over it. So I focus on tracking.

I find footprints that are too small for an adult, with a more erratic movement pattern than the previous one. There’s more than one human wandering on the woods? A lost kid, alone and confused? Maybe even….

The idea of finding a little boy or girl turned into one of Danny’s zombies tightens my chest. Even after months dealing with infected people, I guess I haven’t really considered the possibility children also could be like that.

I ignore Danny’s questions on why the rush. I don’t tell him about this. I don’t want to worry him without really knowing for sure. And I need to know for sure.

For an hour, I follow the small prints in the snow. The kid stopped to rest twice, finding support against a tree and smashing leaves and twigs on the way. A strong smell of vomit tells us that we are closer than I expected.

Someone is feeling sick.

“Lily, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know yet.”

We move faster. I have a bad feeling about this, especially when the tracks circle around and take us back to the edge of town. Sick or zombie, the kid managed to find Redwood. I frown at the huge hole in our wire fence; a pole has fallen over with the weight of accumulated snow and yesterday’s strong winds. It’s supposed to be electrified, but since the generators are low on fuel, it probably stopped working during the night.

I crouch over the last set of prints, comparing my hands to its size. That’s when we hear shouts. I bolt in the direction of the noises. Not even a block from where we were, I spot two kids standing together on a front porch. I run to them, Danny on my heels.

“What happened?” I ask them.

“There’s one of those things inside! Ma and Pop trapped it on the bathroom,” the oldest of the two tell us, pointing at the door.

“Danny, stay with them. In case it gets out,” I say to him and receive a nod.

Without needing any further details, I run inside the house, SIG Sauer in hand. Everything is silent. I move around the rooms, staying close to the walls and checking for any movement. As I approach the stairs, step by step, muffled voices come from the second floor. Not screams, but the sounds of a hurried conversation.

“Hello? Is everything all right?” I yell.

“We’re upstairs. We trapped it! Are you from the council?” A woman’s voice shouts from the top of the stairs. “Please kill it for us!”

“Stay where you are, I’m coming—”

Glass shatters and a loud thump hits ground on my left. I spin and face the nearest window; my eye catches a fallen form in the yard outside. I dart closer to the glass in order to see it better. A little girl touches a bruised shoulder with a wince, her jeans are torn on the knees and she’s covered in dried earth from boots to black, messy short hair.

My eyes widen as she forces herself up and starts to limp away.

“Wait.” I try to open the window to reach her, but the thing won’t budge. “Stay where you are!”

She turns her head, enough to see me… and my gun. She gets up and runs. I let out a frustrated groan, and leave the locked window behind, racing to the front door.

Outside, I jog to the side of the house. Before I can reach her, the teen from before tackles the girl to the ground. She tries to fight him off, kicking, but he’s too heavy for her.